A Devil's Work is Never Done
by Burnsie at the Crossroads
Summary: Sherlock Holmes bartered away his soul in an effort to protect John Watson and is now under the "employment" of a demon named Moya and the King of Hell. Now the duo must work the cases that the crossroads demon gives them and try to find a way to get Sherlock out of his deal all whilst trying not to be killed in the process. Story follows A Deal for a Deal (please read that first)
1. An incident in London

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Sherlock they belong to their respective owners. However, OCs (like Moyra) are mine and I love them dearly.

* * *

Chapter 1

It was raining… again. The woman looked up at the sky before pulling the collar of her coat tighter as she crossed the street to her apartment building. Of all the places she could end up it had to be London. She would have much preferred somewhere a little more… tropical.

She paused as she opened the door to her flat, something didn't feel right. The woman cautiously turned on the lights and made her way slowly to the kitchen setting her purse on the counter. Her eyes narrowed as she sniffed the air and turned slowly. Suddenly a breeze picked up causing the woman's eyes to go wide with terror. The lights started to flicker and the breeze picked up as she scrambled around the kitchen in desperation searching for something that might be able to help her. Suddenly, the flat went black and a blood-curdling scream pierced the darkness.

After a few moments of stillness the lights flickered back on. The woman now sprawled across the tile floor a small amount of blood trickling from her mouth. In her hand clasped tight, the item that she had been desperately seeking.

* * *

Sorry it took so long to update. Finals happened (it was a pain), and my beta has been super busy. Anywho, he's the next installment to the overarching series I have yet to name. As always please read, review, favorite, follow, and most importantly enjoy.


	2. Meanwhile in Hell

_Disclaimer (again): I own little of this. Moya and bits and parts of the story are mine the rest are property of their respective owners._

* * *

Moyra's heeled boots clicked as she walked down the long dark stone corridor, twirling an elegant black cane with a carved jade head. Muffled cries rang out around her. As much as she liked the changes Crowley had made to Hell, Moyra was rather glad that he had kept some areas in the more "traditional" style. She stopped at a large oak door and pulled a key from her vest pocket unlocking the door and slipping inside.

The room was small and dank, and the only sources of light came from the torches fixed to each wall. Against one of the walls was a table, upon which there were a number of odd and painful looking torture devices. Adjacent was a large wheel to which a man was attached by his ankles and wrists. His suit had once been nice, designer even, but now was ripped and torn. It was almost impossible to determine the color it had once been as the fabric had been stained one too many times with sweat and blood.

The man lifted his head upon hearing the approaching footsteps, his deep brown eyes meeting her hazel.

"Hello Jim, it's been awhile" She smiled, running her hand along the table.

He grimaced, "Honey, in my opinion it's all too soon."

"Aw, I'm almost offended, Jim dear" Moyra picked up a knife, gently running her finger gently across the blade before setting the knife down.

"Don't take it personally though, it's just business." She walked over to him. "After all, you did break contract."

"But I was boooorrredd," he whined.

Moyra rolled her eyes, swinging the butt of her cane down onto his right hand, resulting in a sickening crack. He yelped in pain. "Doesn't mean you had to kill yourself."

"I was told I'd never get bored."

Moyra shrugged. "I would have found you a new toy just as I found the last two. You really should stop whining though, makes you sound like a 5 year-old."

"If I was free…" He snarled.

The cane came down again, smashing into the left hand and shattering the bone. Moriarty groaned in pain.

Moyra leaned in to him mere inches from his face."Yes, but you're not free, are you? You'd do well not to threaten me," she whispered dangerously.

"What about your employer then? Or should I call him your master? I'm sure you make a wonderful little pet. Ever so obedient. In more ways than one I'd imagine," he replied with a maniacal grin.

He knew that she had some sort of soft spot for the King of Hell. It was something he had determined early on. He and Sherlock could agree on one thing: sentiment was a weakness. Her reaction was even more impressive when he alluded to the "intimate" details of the pair's relationship. He needed to have the upper hand somewhere. It kept him sane. Well as sane as a person like him could be at least.

Moyra growled. The next hits came in quick succession: first a bone crushing blow to the left leg, then the right, and finally to the chest breaking a number of ribs. He groaned and slumped in pain as she ran her gloved fingers through her hair breathing heavily. She stood there for a moment thinking before a smile slowly spread across her face.

"And what about you dear? Getting over your obsession of Sherlock?"

"He got boring.. I beat him."

"Did you?"

"Yes," He replied quickly.

"Are you sure?"

"He had no other way out. Not unless he wanted to lose everyone." Moriarty seemed confident but there was a flicker of doubt that crossed his face.

"You're lying," he spoke cautiously.

"I didn't say anything, you're the one that made the assumption. But, now that you mention it, Sherlock sends his regards. I had the pleasure of doing business with him recently."

Her comment earned a positively furious look.

"I guess that would make you two co-workers. Unfortunately for you, that means when you do eventually get out of here, there's nothing you can do to him."

Morya leaned in to whisper in his ear. "You see dear there are two types of torture, psychological and physical… personally I prefer psychological; it's much more fun to let your thoughts eat away at you."

Morairty responded with an animalistic snarl, his eyes for the briefest second flashing black.

Morya tisked. "Such a temper…" She turned to leave but paused. "Though as much as I love psychological torture, there are just some days you have to get physical," she spun, slamming the cane into his head knocking him out.

"Unfortunately it seems today is one of those days." She muttered to herself, lifting his chin before letting his head drop. She walked briskly out of the room. Today after all, was a busy day.

* * *

_Once again review, follow, favorite or all three. Whatever suits your fancy really. Also, apologies for being so late with the second chapter. *gives cupcake as peace offering*_


End file.
